Leave of Absence
by UnderHisWings
Summary: [*Spoilers for S2*] A quick vignette exploring the aftereffects of Wally's death on Nightwing and Artemis. (Dick and Artemis friendship. Implied Spitfire. It might develop into a full-fledged story later on. If it turns into a story, it might also become T-rated. No profanity. No adult themes.)


**A/N: Shoutout to NinjaofFire7 for beta'ing my first public Young Justice fic and for all the encouragement! **

**("Now You See Me" fans: NinjaofFire7 is also writing a great fic for the NYSM fandom! It's called, "Things Inevident". You should go check it out!)**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice. If I did, I'd be busy bringing Wally back from the Speed Force ('cause we all know he didn't really die) in an epic Season 3.**

 **To everyone who has Young Justice on their Netflix: Please re-watch the show as much as you can! If Netflix gets enough YJ viewers, they might give it a Season 3! You KNOW you don't want Wally to stay _gone_ forever!**

 **Thank you for reading!**

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"Business as usual," Nightwing smiled somberly with a forlorn expression as he walked out of the Watchtower. This had been their dream. To actually, officially, be a part of the Justice League. It was why he, as Robin, with Aqualad and . . . Nightwing took a shaky breath . . . and _Kid Flash_ had become a team in the first place.

Wally had never gotten to see the dream — _their_ dream — come to life.

Nightwing closed his eyes against both tears and lights as the zeta beam engulfed him.

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 _Two Months Later..._

 **BLUDHAVEN, U.S.A. 13:08**

Dick Grayson buried his head in the pillow and tried to ignore the incessant ringing. After a while it stopped, and he breathed a sigh of relief — but was cut off as it began again. Resigned to his fate, he reached out a lone hand from under the comfort of his sheets to silence the cursed object on the bedside table. His drowsy fingers were grazing the cool, metal edge, attempting to hit the 'Snooze' button, when—

 _Clunk_. It fell off.

Irritably, he shoved the cherished pillow out of the way and leaned over the side of the bed to stretch for the phone. It lay face-down on the thin, rugged, cheap carpet, still vibrating and ringing ruthlessly.

"Would'ya just leave me alone for one seco—"

He stopped short when his weary eyes landed on the caller's ID. He immediately slapped the phone to his ear and rolled fully back into bed. He spoke into the phone. "Artemis?"

"Where have you _been_?" She sounded frustrated. _Great_ , Dick thought. He readjusted his covers and snuggled with his pillow again as her feminine voice continued to hammer into his ear. "It's like you just vanished off the face of the earth. You haven't visited the Team even _once_ since you left, and Batman said he hasn't heard from you _personally_ in over a month! Why haven't you come back yet? Why haven't you said anything? Did the latest McDonald's toy swallow you alive?!"

"No, I'm fine." He sighed. He knew he couldn't run from this conversation forever. "I already told you, just like I told Aqualad: I just need some space. Okay?"

"Look," Artemis' voice began to tremble slightly, which was unusual for her. Dick immediately knew where this was headed. "I know what you're going through. I . . . I feel it too. He was more than a teammate. I get that. You know we both loved him more than a friend. To you, he was a brother. To me . . . h-he was . . ."

"I know, Arty, I know . . ." He tried to comfort her.

The dam burst.

"I can't live without him, Dick! I-I've tried so hard for the past two months, four days, six hours and forty-three minutes . . . and I just can't! Whatever it is that I'm living in right now, it isn't real living. It isn't _life_ , Dick. It's not the same. Not without—" Heart-wrenched sobs muffled what she said next.

But Dick understood. Dense moisture behind his pupils fought voraciously for freedom at hearing one of the toughest girls he knew cry out like a hopeless child. His heart twisted. His throat tightened as his own grieving flared to the forefront of his mind. He could hear Artemis over the line, still weeping pitifully, but he wasn't even whelmed enough to form words of his own, let alone comfort her too. How long they stayed like that, in total, shared grievance, neither cared to find out. Artemis wept until long after her tears had gone dry. For Dick, heartache soon gave way to utter emotional (as well as physical) fatigue. He couldn't help but let a weary yawn drop into the mic of the phone.

After a few more seconds, Artemis seemingly found her voice again. "So you really haven't left the gig completely, huh, Sleepyhead?" Her unseen smirk was obvious.

How she could always strap herself back together so fast bewildered Dick. He absently wondered if it had anything to do with his influence during that time the Cave had been ambushed by the Reds. He dragged an arm across his face, burying his eyes in the limp crook of his inner elbow, although the thick blinds in his apartment room had already blocked out most of the noon sun. He had bought the best brand of quality blinds that he could find. Out of anything else in his dingy apartment, they were the most expensive.

"Do you ever listen?" Dick said into the phone, only half-scolding. "I told you: I'm not quitting. Just taking a break."

"Well," Artemis said after a pause. "I guess it was kinda foolish of me to believe I could get rid of you that easily. . ."

Dick barely heard her playful trolling as sleep suddenly arrested his consciousness. A soft snore soon dribbled into the phone-line from his end. Artemis snickered.

"You must be really busy if you're skipping police duty in order to catch some extra shut-eye," she noted, more to herself than to her friend. She knew he was already asleep. "I know you're up to something else. I don't know what it is yet, but I'll get to the bottom of it. Somehow." She paused as Dick let out a much deeper, longer snore.

She remembered that he only snored like that when he was able to sleep deeply in a place he truly felt comfortable. Whenever he was forced to sleep on missions, he never ever snored— he would only be completely silent, unmoving— almost as if he were dead. On the other hand, he would instantly wake at the slightest rustle, the subtlest movement, the softest change of air. A survival technique, Artemis supposed, probably drilled into his subconsciousness from Day One of bat-training.

She smiled, whispering, "Good _noon_ , Robin," and hung up.

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 **Again, thank you so much for reading this! If you have time, it'd be wonderful if you could review as well. Even constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!**


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